I have developed the habit of doing nothing other than a quick pee and brushing my teeth before turning on the computer to check on AntiJen's blog site for a post. With the three hour time differential, I don't usually get to read her daily messages until the following day.
I knew she was headed to San Diego to visit with her sister and babysit a niecelet. I knew she was going to be time-challenged. I knew NaBloPoMo wasn't going to be her first priority. Still, I sucked in my breath when I got to her site this morning and there was no Sunday post.
Jenni is my blog mentor. When my writer persona grows up, it wants to be just like her. Smart, quick witted, good vocabulary, "green" thinking and especially good when it comes to sentence structure.
It was Jenni's suggestion that got me into this blasted every day posting business. She was my first "friend" on NaBloPoMo. And let's face it, even if greeblemonkey has tagged me as a friend, as in real life, you find out who your friends are when you're down in the trenches.
I feel like I've let my friend down somehow. I don't know how I might have helped her. We live 3000 miles apart, which means our friendship is linked only by some mysterious signal that travels between computers. And in all honesty, I'm kind of glad she opted for real life, rather than the frantic-just-write-anything-and-post-it-so-you-can-go-to-bed things I've been writing lately.
I mean really, my last few posts have been lamer than lame. There really isn't much in my life to write about so I'm on the verge of having to make things up. Jenni is there in burned out, smokey smelling Southern California living good post material. So what if she doesn't get in on the "random" drawing prize at the end of the month - she's all about the adventure not the reward.
Have I mentioned that the mother in me is a tad bit worried about her. I mean, if she'd posted something, I'd know she made the drive safe and sound, that she made it past the Grapevine without incident. That she hasn't been kidnapped by aliens and taken to their planet and made their queen and been impregnated for the survival of their race. If she'd posted something by now I'd know for sure that those cock roach clusters she's been talking about didn't poison her.
Since Jenni isn't my own daughter I am aware that my natural mothering instincts are a little, not a lot, over the top. She has her own mother to fear the worst. Just like my own daughter she may have just turned her cell phone, i.e. unbilical cord, (or computer as the case may be) off when going on a big girl trip. "Oops! sorry mom, I forgot to turn it on." Yeh, right. Not having your phone on so your mother can get in touch with you when she knows you're not at home is a notsosubtle attempt at autonomy. What's that all about? Don't they know mothers worry. Don't they care? Who do they think they are, anyway, grown-ups?
Well, I can't sit around stewing. I need to start my day. I'm sure Jenni is going to have a terrific story to tell when next we hear from her. I can't wait. Not because I'm a neurotic, dramatic, over-adrenalined worry wort. But because I live vicariously through her adventures. Just think of it, if she was, by an off chance, abducted by aliens who better to tell the story than antijen.
Hey, Jenni, call/write home!
Worrying yet still,